I put my tea down and beckoned for him to follow me. We went out to the front and looked out at a scene of utter chaos. There were people everywhere. Hundreds at the gates, pressed up against them. Behind them came thousands more, all running in blind panic. I had no idea what was happening, but I didn’t like the look of it.
‘Call out the entire guard,’ I ordered. ‘Fully armed. And tell Lieutenant Pearson.’
He ran off. Never even saluted me. I didn’t care. What I was watching was filling me with a deep foreboding. This was a panic. These people were running for their lives, not caring about anything other than getting as far away from whatever was coming behind them. It sent a chill down my spine like I had never felt before. I had served in the Gulf War, Northern Ireland and four tours of Afghan. I had also been involved in two rescue missions of kidnapped British nationals in my twenty years in the army. Nothing I had faced in any of those situations had given me as much cause for concern as what I was seeing now.
Anthony Ballanger
14:00 hours, Friday 15th May, Whitehall, London
By two in the afternoon we had everyone we were going to get at the meeting. The PM opened it by thanking everyone for getting there. Travel, especially around the centre of the city, had become difficult and he was grateful to those who had braved it.
We had three top military men, including one of the most senior SAS officers, half of the cabinet, Dr Bryson of course, the London fire chief, two women from the NHS and someone who worked for British Telecom. What we didn’t have was the Met Commissioner or any other senior police officer present, although we did have the Commissioner’s deputy on the line. We also didn’t have anyone from any of the hospitals who were treating the injured.
The PM asked everyone present to give their views on the situation, based on what they had heard and seen at first hand. Unfortunately, most of those who had seen the events of the morning at first hand were dead by now, killed before they even knew what they were facing. The police, we were told, were in the front line, but their resources were so stretched that they were calling people in from their rest days. This was taking time. The deputy couldn’t be certain, but estimated that at least ten police officers were unaccounted for.
The PM asked what was being done to trace those officers. He couldn’t give a straight answer. It was obvious to me that they had been written off as probably dead. Shots had been fired by at least two officers. There were no figures for civilian casualties of those shootings.
The two women from the NHS were the next to be quizzed. They couldn’t give any figures for numbers being treated but confirmed a new report, that there had been an outbreak of violence at Great Ormond Street Hospital and they had temporarily lost contact with staff there. The PM knew he had to make a decision quickly.
General Breck, who was the most senior military man in the room, asked if the Prime Minister wanted to order the army onto the streets. Breck was an older man, probably in his late fifties I would guess. He was army through and through, with a ramrod straight back and the fitness of a man in his twenties. But he was also incredibly perceptive. He could see a problem looming and he wanted to be in a position to deal with it before it got any worse.
The Prime Minister was aghast at the suggestion. It was far too early to consider such a drastic action, he argued, when we still didn’t know exactly what we were dealing with. All the same he ordered that all leave should be cancelled with immediate effect and for all the armed forces to be placed on high alert.
The situation at Buckingham Palace was then discussed in some detail. The Royal Family were already at Windsor for a private family event, he was told, and should be safe in the meantime. But thousands were still congregated outside and there were reports of many hundreds of casualties. The guard had asked for permission to open the gates, in order to protect some of those who were gathered there. This idea was immediately discounted. We couldn’t allow thousands of ordinary people access to the Queen’s residence. Impossible.
The PM concluded the meeting by addressing Dr Bryson and asking for his opinion.
‘I haven’t seen what is going on at first hand,’ the Dr said. ‘I haven’t seen any of the injured or dead, or had the opportunity to try to communicate with any of the attackers to see what has triggered it.’
‘I would like you to do so immediately,’ said the PM. ‘Go to one of the hospitals and find out whatever you can about this. We need as much information as you can get.’
He turned to Brigadier Carrick of the SAS, another who had been lucky enough to make it through the early carnage.
‘See to it that the Dr has an escort.’
With that the meeting came to an end, with the next one scheduled for 22:00 hours in the same room. That meeting never took place. In fact, by the time 22:00 hours had arrived, most of the people who had attended that meeting were dead, or had been infected.
Callum MacPherson
14:10 hours, Friday 15th May, Buckingham Palace, London
It was me who gave the first order to open the gate. It was just the one at the side, near to the guard room, not the main one where most of the people were gathered. What did it for me was the sight of two young girls clinging to one another in fright as the world around them descended into chaos. They never spoke. They didn’t ask to be saved, but the imploring look in their eyes told me I had to do something.
From my vantage point I hadn’t been able to get the best view, so I did something which was against protocol. I went inside the main palace building. I knew the royal family were away, but if I had been caught it would have meant serious trouble for me.
I went to the top floor with a pair of binoculars and scanned across the Mall and the surrounding area. There were, by now, tens of thousands of people either already gathered outside the palace gates, or making their way towards us across St James’s Park and Green Park. I gasped when I saw them all. There was no way we could let them through the gates. It would be the end of us all. There was no room for them in any case.
But worse, I could now see what was happening on the fringes of the crowd. There were fights. People were being knocked down, attacked, bitten. I could see one person who looked like she was being eaten alive by a group of people. I thanked God that she was too far away to hear.
Then I saw my first riser, as they came to be called. I watched a man trip and fall. Two of them were on him before he could get up. He flailed at them with a brief case and managed to get back up and run away. He hadn’t gone much further than about fifty metres and he suddenly stopped, clutching at his throat. He went into a spasm and dropped to the ground again. He writhed around for twenty to thirty seconds and then suddenly went limp. I guessed he was dead but his injuries didn’t look to have been life threatening.
I don’t know why, but I continued watching him for another minute or so. Something told me his story wasn’t finished yet. Suddenly, I saw a twitch. His arm moved. Then a leg. A few seconds later he had pushed himself up and was looking around. Then he stood up. I nearly dropped the binoculars. I had thought he was dead. This couldn’t be happening.
Then he joined the rest of the gathering mass of serial killers, grabbing at people, biting them. They too fell after a while and they too rose and joined the throng. Before long I realised that it was a tide that could not be halted. Everyone outside the palace was going to die, sooner or later.
I sprinted back down to the guard room and from there to the side gate. That’s when I saw the girls. They were with a few others who had detached themselves from the main crowd and decided to look for another option.
‘Open the gate,’ I ordered the soldiers. ‘Let those people through.’
‘We have been ordered not to open the gates,’ said one of the lads.
‘Do it,’ I snarled at him. ‘Then close it again before everyone else gets wind of it.
They opened it up and those fifty or so terrified souls poured into the compound, thanking me as they came.
Once they were through, the gates were locked again. Just in time to stop the next group from getting access. They reached through the gates, begging to be saved. There was nothing more I could do. To open them again would have been suicide. I turned my back on them and walked into the guard house. I can still hear their pleas today.
Government Announcement
14:45 hours, Friday 15th May 2015, Whitehall, London
‘This is a government health warning. Due to an unexpected event, which occurred this morning in the Covent Garden area and surrounding streets, it is advised that all residents remain indoors and do not approach any persons with symptoms of aggression or unusual behaviour.’
‘It is also advised that any person, who has suffered a bite or other injury from contact with a person displaying these symptoms, seeks medical attention immediately’
‘Further information will be given in due course, but in the meantime it is repeated that residents should remain indoors.’
Dr Richard Bryson
14:50 hours, Friday 15th May, Whitehall, London
I don’t know if it made me feel safer or not, having my own personal SAS bodyguard to take me from place to place. There were four of them, all dressed in camouflage gear and heavily armed with automatic rifles, pistols and grenades. They didn’t say very much, but they were friendly enough and made sure I got everything I needed. Certainly nobody was going to harm me with those guys around.
Taff was the one in charge. He was a big Welshman with a lilting tone, but I could tell there was an extremely tough individual inside. Tony was his second in command. He was in his forties but looked as fit as a teenager. He was always whistling, which did get on my nerves after a while. Si was the youngest one. He was a London boy, from the East End, and he also provided the jokes and light relief. The fourth member of the group I only knew by his nickname of Shaky. He was about thirty and had muscles on top of his muscles.
What surprised me most about this little group, was that they all seemed to be so well educated, perhaps with the exception of Si. They would often quote things that seemed out of place to what they did for day jobs. It didn’t matter to me, of course, I was just happy to have some company. The task I had been given was dangerous. I could never have completed it without them. In fact they saved my life many times in that first week and probably scores of times in the next month and we became good friends through all the hardship and danger.
The first place I decided to head for, was Great Ormond Street Hospital. We knew some of the injured had been taken there and that contact had been lost. I wanted to know why that was.
It soon became clear that it was going to be almost impossible to get through by a direct route. Even as we were leaving Whitehall, just after the warning was issued, we were advised that the Prime Minister and other government officials were to be relocated in the next half hour and that the area around Charing Cross was already a no-go. That seemed incredible. It was only a few hundred metres away.
Our driver, Shaky, decided on a more circuitous way and took as across the river on Westminster Bridge. Once on the south side of the river we made our way along to Blackfriars Bridge and crossed back to the north side.
There were people everywhere. Thousands and thousands were on foot, heading across the river to the perceived safety of the south bank. We seemed to be the only ones going in the opposite direction. Some tried to warn us not to go any further, others just ignored us completely. We saw some people with horrific wounds, bites mainly. Some of them dropped where they were and we carried on past. There was nothing we could do. There were too many injured.
The more I saw of it the more I theorised that this was some form of disease. People seemed to be becoming infected through bites and scratches and they were expiring quicker than with any known virus I had ever encountered. The only thing I could compare it to is a bite from a venomous snake. There are some species that can kill a human being in just a few hours. This was happening much faster.
By the time we were about a half mile from the hospital, Shaky had stopped our vehicle.
‘We’re not going any further,’ said Taff.
I looked him, expecting a reason to be given, but he just pointed straight ahead. In front of us, shuffling down the street towards Holborn junction, were hundreds of them. No, actually I think there were thousands of them, all with the same vacant expressions, all walking with that slow and purposeful gait. All with the same thought at the forefront of their minds.
‘Get us out of here,’ said Taff, calmly.
Shaky turned the car around and we drove back towards Blackfriars Bridge. By the time we made it there Taff had already been on the phone to his boss.
‘There’s no way through to the hospital,’ he said.
I didn’t hear what his boss said, but Taff’s next words chilled me to the bone.
‘I think we are in some serious trouble.’
Chapter Three
Anna Hasker
15:00 hours, Friday 15th May, Heathrow Airport, London
I had arrived at Heathrow, for my flight to Edinburgh, about two hours earlier than I would normally. I had had a fight with my boyfriend at breakfast, about him going on yet another lad’s weekend. This time it was Amsterdam. He just presented it to me, over our coffee, as a done deal. I was beginning to get pissed off with these trips he kept taking. It was almost one a month now, always somewhere in Europe.
Of course I was working that weekend, which made me feel like I was over reacting to it. What did I expect him to do, he had asked? Sit around the flat all weekend, waiting for me to drop in, too tired to do anything?
I was so angry I decided that the best place for me was work. We lived out near Chiswick so it didn’t take me too long to drive to the airport. On the way I tried to listen to the radio but every station was full of news about a bus crash in Covent Garden and widespread disturbances across the city. There was always somebody protesting about something, I thought.
When I got to the airport I parked my car in the staff car park and walked to the domestic terminal building. There were lots of people there. Nothing unusual about that, except that many of them were crowded around television screens watching what was happening in the city.
I went into our staff room and grabbed myself a coffee and a croissant. It was surprisingly busy in there. Everyone was chattering about the disturbances and how they had affected flights in and out of the airport. I found a friend of mine, Lucy Scott. We had started with British Airways on the same day, almost seven years ago, and we sometimes worked together on flights.
‘Have you been watching the news?’ she asked.
I shook my head. I was still upset after my argument with Andy.
She didn’t seem to notice. ‘There are disturbances all over central London. It started on a bus, someone said, and spread down into the tube stations. Now it’s all over the place. There’s something going on here too. They’ve cancelled every single flight. Apparently there are people out on the runways.’
She pointed at one of the TV screens. We got the occasional idiot at the airport, who might run across a runway. That wasn’t uncommon. But when I looked at the screen I could see dozens of figures wandering around aimlessly.
‘There was a disturbance in Terminal Two earlier,’ said Lucy. ‘A lot of those people on the runways came from there I think.’
Something didn’t seem to add up as I watched the figures walking around. Some airport security staff had been sent out to deal with them and as soon as they approached, the figures went for them. Were they attacking them? It certainly looked like it. The security guys backed off, driving back towards us in their vehicle. The figures staggered after them, arms outstretched.
‘It’s like a Zombie movie,’ someone said.
People laughed. That was ridiculous, of course. But they did bear a resemblance to what we were fed by the media and Hollywood.
I turned away and poured myself another coffee. It was going to b
e a long wait before we would be flying.
Xiaofan Li
15:15 hours, Friday 15th May, Whitehall, London
By mid-afternoon I was well away from Leicester Square, heading for Holborn. I soon found I couldn’t go any further, as there was another crowd of people streaming south, away from the area around the British Museum and Great Ormond Street Hospital. I tried to stop some of them, to tell them they were running into danger, but nobody would listen.
So I carried on for another street and found an alleyway that led to the rear of some shops. There was a fire escape which led up the back of the building and I decided to climb up. I reasoned that this would give me two advantages. I would be safer and I should be able to see what was going on down on the ground a lot better. It might also buy me some time and offer some solution for an escape.
At the top of the fire escape stairs was a ladder. It was perfect. I climbed up and found myself on a flat roof of a building. I could see for miles up there. To the south, in the area of Covent Garden, there was a huge pall of smoke. There were also other fires in other areas of the city. I had no idea at the time but I found out, months later, that they were caused by people who worked in restaurants who had just left their equipment running in their blind panic to get away.
That’s how quickly things happened on that first day. There was little information from the government, nobody to protect us or offer words of support or encouragement and we still had no idea what we were dealing with. Nobody knew, at that point, that it was the undead and that only a head shot would stop them permanently. It was like the whole country was paralysed. And the dead took full advantage.
I could see bodies lying everywhere. Some were half eaten, others were horribly disfigured and mutilated, but somehow still moving. Huge groups of shuffling people were walking through the streets, ignoring everything unless they came across a survivor who had failed to get clear of the area. I saw at least three people, who had no chance of escape, being ripped apart before my eyes. And there was a noise too. It was the first time I had heard it, but it sent a shiver right through the core of my body. It was the low moan of the dead. A mind numbing and persistent lament of those who were damned to walk the Earth for ever more.
The Z Infection Page 4